


Unigedd

by ko_writes



Series: Ddiwerth [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Abuse, Abusive England, Historical References, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Worth Issues, Unrequited Love, implied/referenced eating disorder, like a sentence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-24 01:58:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7488909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_writes/pseuds/ko_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wales is useless.<br/>Wales is abandoned.<br/>Wales is unloved.<br/>Wales is just an extension of England, now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unigedd

The room is dark, as it always is.

His clothes are dirty, as they always are. 

The scraps his brother pushed through the slot in the door reek, as the always do.

Nothing changes much in a small room, such as his. He's confined, as per the terms of the annexation, to attempt to limit the number of rebellions in his country; it's their right, but they all suffer for it.

He's given up by now, weak and soiled, and his people still fight for him.

No, no that's not quite right.

They fight for the child blessed by God, they fight for the pure little boy he was, they fight for  _Cymru_.

He isn't Cymru anymore - not the "land of friends" - but Wales - the "land of foreigners", in his big brother's patchwork of a language. Not that his is much purer, but it sounds beautiful to him; English grates on his nerves and makes his ears bleed.

England only allows him to speak English, as Welsh is disgusting to him. 

It's a shame. He used to love listening to the harmony of voices drifting through his valleys, along with the thrum of the land itself; that was true beauty.

All he hears are English songs, now. They grate on his ears more that conversations do; Welsh was made for song and communication, English merely speaking - or, that's what he thinks at least.

He just lays on his bed, nowadays. He can't get up, except to relieve himself and drink water - food scraps untouched as always, until he pushes them out between the bars on his windows. He's a lot skinnier now, skeletal compared to the day England pushed his face into his food, taunting his stockier build.

He knows he was never fat, it's just his body type, but he was put off his food for a while as his big brother's disgusting cooking lodged up his nose and brushed the back of his throat.

His hair's probably greasy, the small cowlick he has weighed down by the sweat and grime; but that's not the most soiled part of him, oh no. He's been filthy for a while, probably why God deserted him after all. Between what he allowed Francis to do, with his echoing promise to love him until the day he disappeared ignored, and what Arthur took by force, it's fair to say that he's beyond redemption.

Again, his opinion. He doesn't know much about these things, but he feels what he feels; that's the one thing they can't take away, at least. He thinks, and that's all he does while laying on that hard, cold bed without so much as a pillow.

He's barely a nation, he thinks. England took control of his country, his people - his little nation of so much strength and promise - and took away any hope of greatness he ever had. He was the one who held of mighty Rome for decades, so why must it be this way?

He doesn't know... Doesn't want to know. Maybe the devil has their eye on him, or God forsaking him; but he knows he shouldn't think that way, for it's against his beliefs.

Things were so much simpler before Christianity.

He  _definitely_  should stop  _that_ line of thought.

So, he lies there. Yet again. His mind drifts to the captivating Frenchman with beautiful hair, the promise of alliance on his lips as he thrusted into him again and again, stealing his breath with pain, pleasure and  _love_.

But, alliance isn't love. He learned that. 

He also learned to never trust a beautiful man with soft lips and greedy hands, as he was left to fight the battle himself. 

He lies there, closing his eyes; if he wishes hard enough, he might escape this life and disappear with the ancients. 

He doesn't. 

He just lies there.

**Author's Note:**

> The things I do to my country, I swear. By the way, England isn't abusive for the hell of it; there is some grounding from history.
> 
> This will be a series. The next one will focus more on Wales' eating disorder, and the one after that his relationship with Francis - if there's anything you'd like me to expand on, you're more than welcome to comment.


End file.
